


Eventually, Always

by missgnutmeg



Series: Scattered Family Portraits [4]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgnutmeg/pseuds/missgnutmeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maglor comforts Maedhros after the death of their cousin Fingon. Slight overlap with <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1789072">Big Brother</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eventually, Always

They had come up together, but stopped when they saw Turgon kneeling next to his brother's body. A quick glance between them, and they had flanked Fingolfin's younger son, to offer what comfort they could. Maglor knelt on the left and Maedhros took the right. They stayed in silence for a while, until Maglor finally broke it with his gentle voice, "Shall we bury the body here, cousin? Or do you wish to take it?"

"I'll take it." Turgon had answer quickly, as though he didn't need to think about it, and that satisfied them. They sat with him a while longer, but he was too caught up in his grief to even notice them. Finally, Maglor rose and looked to his older brother. Maedhros nodded, but cut a small lock of Fingon's dark hair before joining his brother. Maglor watched him carefully set it into a pouch attached to his belt.

Then they walked back towards their camp together, Maglor looking over his shoulder from time to time at their younger cousin. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

"Eventually," Maedhros shrugged, and then wrapped an arm around his younger brother's waist.

Maglor returned the gesture, suspecting that Maedhros needed the support far more than he did. He studied his older brother - tall, red-headed, once joyful but now solemn - and wondered how he would react to losing him. No, Turgon seemed to be doing quite well compared to how he might have been in the same situation. "And what about you, Russandol? Will you be alright?"

It amused him whenever he caught his brother off-guard, since he was probably the only one who could other than Fingon. And this time was no exception as Maedhros nearly missed a step at hearing his question. But then those serious blue eyes looked down at him, filled with pain and sadness that they would be unrecognizable to most but Maglor knew his brother well. "I will live, brother, as long as I still have your support."

"Always," Maglor replied and tugged on a strand of his brother's red hair. Their other brothers sometimes teased them for the way Maglor always seemed to be Maedhros' shadow. It had always been that way, though, even when they were young. They were as close as any two men could be and no one could come between them, ever.

Well, one person almost had.

Fingon had tumbled into their lives one day quite unexpectedly. He was the oldest son of their uncle, and a rather lively child. For some odd reason, he had always wanted to play with them, instead of Caranthir who was his own age. Maglor had thought it cute and had often spent time with the little one, singing for him or teaching him rhymes, but as Fingon grew older he seemed to be more and more interested in Maedhros. Once he was old enough to be considered a man grown they had become fast friends.

It had made Maglor jealous to see his older brother spending so much time with their cousin, though he tried not to begrudge them their friendship. Instead, Maglor had pulled away to focus even deeper on his music. No one had really noticed much of a difference in him, well, except Maedhros. Eventually. Then again, they had always been able to read each other so well. And they had gotten past that. Maglor had learned to accept how close his brother was with Fingon.

King. Cousin. Friend. Dead.

A single tear escaped Maedhros' eye and Maglor reached to quickly catch it away. He knew how his brother hated to show any signs of weakness. Even in times like this. He hadn't cried once during the whole healing process after Fingon had saved him from Thongorindrim. Not over the years of torment, not over his lost hand. Never. Maglor wondered just how dear that lock of hair in his brother's pouch truly was.

Compulsively Maglor pulled his older brother into a hug, holding him tightly as if to say he'd always be there. And Maedhros rested his chin on top of Maglor's head as he returned the hug in a way that said they'd eventually be alright. So they made their stand against their grief, together, each for their own reasons.

It had been by rescuing Maedhros that Fingon had finally won Maglor's friendship as well. How could he not love the man who saved his brother? Fingon had been so brave, so selfless. He had also had a wicked sense of humour. Maglor wondered how many people knew that about him. Life would certainly be darker now, without his light. That was already evident in the dullness of Maedhros' eyes.

"This war has already stolen so many of the best of us. I fear it will eventually even steal you from me, my little shadow."

Maglor was pulled from his reverie by his brother's soft voice. He slipped out of their embrace, but only far enough to meet Maedhros' eyes. "As long as we both live, I will always be your shadow. We are stronger together." And then Maglor found himself hugged tightly again.

The fear in Maedhros' embrace whispered of eventually, and the despair in Maglor's heart repeated always.

**Author's Note:**

> As if I could leave my favourite Feanorians out of the angst! These are old fic for me (this one I originally did in 2008, for instance) but I still appreciate concrit. Thanks for hanging in there whilst I throw pain at things.


End file.
